


I'm Gonna Be

by fleurofthecourt



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Angst, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 06:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleurofthecourt/pseuds/fleurofthecourt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly after they begin dating,  when Monroe is injured while helping Nick with a case, Nick must decide what comes first, being with Monroe or keeping him safe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Gonna Be

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Thanksgiving folks :D
> 
> This first part isn't angsty, but it will be later on.

_I'm gonna be, the man who wakes up next to you:_

Nick opens his eyes slowly and takes in Monroe’s room, which his mind then autocorrects to his room, their room. He really isn’t used to this yet. It’s only been three weeks. 

For the most part, the room remains Monroe’s, so to speak; all of the furniture is still his, barring Nick’s dresser, there are books neatly stacked beneath the bed (most of which Nick never would have dreamed of reading, let alone owning), and there are more clocks than Nick would have ever contemplated putting in a bedroom. The first night or two, the ticking had kept him awake, but he’s growing used to them. He assumes that, like Monroe, one day he won’t be able to sleep without them.

There are, however, a few signs, here and there, that suggest that it’s his room too. He has his gun in the top drawer of his dresser because Monroe wouldn’t let him keep it in the bedside table, arguing that if they needed a weapon immediately upon waking, he just had to woge. Nick did not agree with this at all, really, but his dresser wasn’t that much further away, so he didn’t argue — much. He also may have tried once to move it after Monroe had fallen asleep, forgetting temporarily that his boyfriend had significantly heightened senses. This slip in memory was not long lasting.

Then there’s a picture of the two of them perched on the top of Monroe’s dresser that he’d recently had framed. They’re in the spice shop, and he has his arm outstretched to Monroe, a look of pleading in his eyes, as he attempts to get Monroe to come with him because he really doesn’t want to be sliced in half because he’s accidentally insulted the leader of a previously unknown wesen religion that Monroe is somewhat unsurprisingly completely familiar with. Monroe is standing just beyond his reach, his posture tense, his eyes pinched, and his mouth drawn into an exasperated sigh. They both know what’s going to happen, it’s just a matter of time before Monroe gives. 

Nick grins half heartedly as he looks at the picture, thinking that Rosalee was right when she said it captured them perfectly. It reminds him that he is always more than a little worried that Monroe will follow him into something he shouldn’t somewhere down the road. 

The last immediate sign is the thick blue and red plaid quilt that he’s sleeping under. He had discovered quickly that Monroe’s thin coverlet was not adequate for keeping him warm. Monroe himself was, but unfortunately there was not a way to prevent Monroe from rolling away from him in his sleep. He didn’t say anything about it, but one night Monroe woke up to find him shivering in his sleep. The next day, he found himself inside a Macy’s searching for warmer bedding and some new towels to replace the ones that they had recently used to wipe off swamp sludge. Typically by the time the two of them wake up in the morning, the quilt is half on the floor because Monroe has kicked it off in his sleep, and Nick doesn’t want to be sleeping under two layers of a queen size quilt.

Since this is the case on this particular morning, Nick starts to gather the quilt off the floor as Monroe turns in his sleep slightly. Then he decides he doesn’t really want to get up quite yet, and lets it fall back over the edge of the bed. He cautiously wraps his arm across Monroe’s shoulder, trying not to wake him. 

The sun is just starting to filter in through the cream colored shades, and Nick half suspects that Monroe already did his pilates and crawled back into bed afterwards. He dimly remembers dreaming about shower water. He leans his head forward and smells the top of Monroe’s head, taking in the strong scent of sandalwood shampoo as he lightly kisses the top of Monroe’s curls.

His eyes fall to the floor, and he notices that the book Monroe had fallen asleep reading the night before is still jutting out from under the bed, lying open to where he’d left off. He starts to climb off the bed with the intent of putting the book back in its rightful place on Monroe’s bedside table. But a hand on his shoulder stops him.

“We never sleep in,” Monroe mumbles as he rolls towards Nick. “Perhaps, we could, you know, do that. Weekends are sort of meant for that after all.”

“You were already up,” Nick points out as he shifts down so that he’s under his part of the covers again and leans his forehead towards Monroe’s so that they’re not quite touching. 

“You know I can’t go without my yoga…” Monroe says defensively. Nick smirks at him and reaches over to ruffle his hair.

“Yeah, I know. And I wouldn’t try to make you. Now, if you want to stay here for another ten minutes or another three hours, I’m in,” Nick says. Monroe’s eyes light up as he leans forward to kiss him, his beard scratching against his stubble as their lips lock together. 

Almost immediately, Nick’s cell phone begins to ring insistently from the nightstand. Neither of them pull away from the other, initially, though Monroe hesitantly raises his eyes at Nick. They both know that, unfortunately, Nick has a job where he can’t just ignore calls. And when his job calls, they know, or at least suspect, that his destiny can’t be far behind. 

He mouths, “Burkhardt,” into the receiver as he swings his legs over the side of the bed and puts his hand up to prevent Monroe from asking questions, at least until he’s off the phone. 

Monroe sits up and leans against the headboard and rolls his eyes—more at the universe than at Nick— and mutters, “Crime before romance. I get it.”

**Author's Note:**

> 9/17/13: I don't consider this abandoned... yet...but Nick canonically moving in with Monroe messed up my writing mojo on this.


End file.
